


A thousand times enough

by Ghostie_Luther



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Angst, Gay Male Character, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Okay but horace is gay, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, as usual, big brothers tm, let my bb have a boyfriend pls, movie! Enoch, platonic relationship between Enoch jacob and horace, set after they come to the present, slight AU, so after library of souls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:55:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23810422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostie_Luther/pseuds/Ghostie_Luther
Summary: "You are enough, a thousand times enough."The date a peculiar arrives in their loop for the first time is a very special day, every year after that celebrated like one would celebrate a birthday. It's a very happy day, although, one of their own is never happy on his loop day. Jacob and Enoch end up reliving memories that aren't quiet their own, and finally see why.
Relationships: Enoch O'Connor & Horace Somnusson, Horace Somnusson/Original Character(s), Jacob Portman & Horace Somnusson
Comments: 25
Kudos: 19





	1. Hurts like hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! just wanted to say I remembered that Ransom said that Horace was born in 1910, which, + 13 (his age), would take him to 1923 before he was snatched up and bundled off into the loop, not 1950! The timeline is so confusing

"Happy loop day Horace!", multiple voices cried out happily as soon as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his left eye and trying not to yawn. He wondered quickly if he could pass off the redness of his eyes as tiredness, instead of them figuring out that he had cried all night instead of sleeping for three nights in a row, managing to pass out into an uneventful, black sleep around 4am in the early morning. 

Why? You ask? 

Heartache. The one person he wanted there, the person that loved him more than anything, that loved him more than life itself, died on this day. He died because of him. Miss peregrine insisted it wasn't true, but it was. 

Marius. His marius. _His marius._

_Marius._

_Marius-_

"Horace?" 

He was jolted back into the present by the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder, Emma's face appearing in the doorway and standing behind him, ushering him into the room.

He swallowed heavily, trying in vain to push past the lump in his throat and seem normal, to seem happy. He offered a shaky smile, although by the slightly put off faces, he guessed it looked more like a grimace. 

"Thanks, everyone." He said, nearly slapping himself and cringing when his voice came out scratchy, hindered by yet again a long night of trying to keep his crying to a reasonable level. 

Before anyone could comment on it though, which they were about to, it was easy to see, he ducked under Emma's arm and backed out of the room, murmuring that he needed to get dressed and to look "presentable." And while it was mostly just an excuse, he wasn't really lying. On any normal day he would be ashamed of himself, coming into the kitchen looking how he did, in his Pajama shorts and old t-shirt, hair messy and unkempt from where he continuously ran his hands through it all night, with no makeup to hide the heavy eyebags that seemed to weigh him down. 

He pressed a shaking hand to his mouth in an attempt to keep the tears at bay as he ran up the stairs to his room, slamming the door behind him on accident before sliding down the other side, wrapping his arms around his legs and breaking down, sobbing into his bare knees.

 _What's wrong with me?_ He thought to himself. 

Meanwhile in the kitchen the other peculiars looked saddened. They had been up since 6am, trying to make the perfect, French approved breakfast he seemed to love so much. Crepes, fruits, berries of all shapes, sizes and colours, croissants, and toast with strawberry and peach jam stood strewn across the large table artistically, with extra things like eggs and bacon snuck in, courtesy of Enoch and Millard. Iced tea and extra strong coffee stood on the side on the kitchen counter. Horace was never allowed coffee much, though he tended to sneak some ready made iced coffee into his room against his older siblings and adoptive mothers wishes. He claimed it helped him through long nights and he liked the taste. Everyone knew that he just wanted to avoid sleep, however.

Jacob looked crestfallen. 

"Doesn't he like the food?" He asked. He had spent the better part of an hour making the crepes and turned out very proud of them. He turned sad eyes onto the headmistress, who smiled back with the same eyes. 

"No, Jake. I'm sure he loves them. It's just...he's not feeling very well right now." 

"When is he ever?" Enoch grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning back on the sideboard, snagging a strawberry and biting into it sourly. 

Jacob cocked his head questioningly. 

"What do you mean? He's normally fine?" He asked. 

This time it was hugh who answered. 

"We have no idea. He's fine most of the year, then his loop day comes along and he spends most of it like a zombie. Only miss p," he gestured with his thumb, oblivious to the meaningful mumble of 'manners', "knows why." 

Miss peregrine opened her mouth to say something, but someone beat her to it.

"Crying." Millard said, from where he was stood by the fridge. 

"He's been crying every night for three days in a row." 

Bronwyn put her hand over her heart with a small _oh bless him._

 _"_ It's probably his dreams, the poor thing. You know how they always keep him up at night." 

But Millard spoke up again.

"No, winn, I know what he sounds like after a nightmare. It's the crying he makes when he's scared, you know? The one that sounds frantic? No. This time he was awake, he was sobbing, ALOT, but it was muffled. He was hiding it in his pillow by the sounds of it. It was _sad_ guys, like he had just lost someone close to him and couldnt stop. I first heard it three days ago when i walked past his room to go to the bathroom, and after that it was hard NOT to hear it. I could hear it through the _walls._ It doesn't stop till early morning, 4 at the _earliest._ It's probably why his voice was so scratchy this morning." He said, seemingly calmly, but his voice was shaking near the end. 

The kitchen was dead silent now. Each left to their own thoughts. What the _fuck_ was going on?

It was miss p that broke the gloomy spell, clapping her hands and then setting them on her narrow hips. 

"It is not your place to discuss this, Children. And while I understand your curiosity, it is something I, and I ALONE am trusted with, and I hope you can respect that. Now, Jacob, Enoch, everyone? Do you remember the plan?" 

She was met with confused and reluctant head nods and curious eyes. 

The plan would be that Jacob and Enoch would take him out to devils acre and distract him for a couple of hours, until they were sent a text to come back. At home there would be a party in one room with food, music and games for the younger ones, and after the party, they would go into the main room and he would see that a giant nest of pillows, blankets, fairy lights and quilts in the shape of teepees would make a giant blanket fort, where they would watch movies, drink hot chocolate and fawn over photo albums until they fell asleep. 

Hugh and Millard were trying to convince the others that fireworks wad a good idea. It wasn't working. 

" _what physically 13 year old but mentally 83 year old doesn't love fireworks?"_

_"And what says 'I love you' better than fireworks? We could even get them to spell out his name-"_

_"Guys, FUCK OFF-"_

Miss p gave them an approving nod and a smile before gesturing them all to sit at the table. 

They all scrambled (in order) to sit at the table next to their food of interest, and had to physically restrain themselves from eating just yet.

They gosspied excitedly about the plans they had made for tonight when Horace re-entered the room, looking much better than before. 

Although he still looked different than normal. After a small breakdown from trying to choose smart, matching clothes, he gave up. Instead he grabbed the nearest pair of jeans (black), and tore the nearest shirt off the hanger, which turned out to be a grey hoodie. In all honesty it was Jacobs old favourite hoodie, but after Jacob grew out of it, Jacobs mother had given it to him instead of throwing it out. Fiona had bought him a pair of black doc Martin's for christmas after she saw he liked them, and so he wore them today, with _mismatched socks_ underneath. 

He had officially lost his mind.

He had flattened his hair down with either gel or water, whichever worked best, and applied concealer underneath his eyes, and with his sheer will to look normal, he looked as fresh as a daisy. His eyes were slightly rimmed with red though, but he could deal with that.

Throughout the chatter he caught miss peregrine looking at him with a knowing gaze. He shrugged back, risking a glance at the floor and back up before moving forward. 

He smiled mutely and sat down at the table, right between hugh and Jacob, looking at the food with interest. Shitty day or no shitty day French breakfast was a WIN. 

It reminded him of his old life in France, before he was disowned. It reminded him of when he would sneak Into the kitchen extra early and help his maman in making the bread and washing the berries. It reminded him of his older sister and him chucking blueberries into eachothers mouths without getting caught. It reminded him of what he was deprived of for a month after he was first disowned. It reminded him of the first breakfast he and marius shared in their small new apartme- 

He grabbed a crepe first, ridding himself of the dark cloud surrounding him before it infected others. He smiled. Today wouldn't be that bad. Today he would allow himself to have fun, even if it was just a little.

He hummed, surprised, as he rolled up his crepe and bit into it. It tasted....like how his maman used to make them. 

"Where did you get these?" He asked, going to grab another one. Jacob puffed up proudly and Enoch groaned beside him, leaning away subconsciously, gulping coffee by the mouthful.

"I made them from SCRATCH!" Jacob cried happily, throwing his arms up in the air, victorious.

Horace looked on in unashamed amazement.

"YOU?" He exclaimed, surprised. This made the rest of the table start cackling loudly, Jacob looking baffled at the strange turn of events.

"YES, ME! What's wrong with that!?" 

"Nothing! Except these are ACTUALLY GOOD!" 

And everyone was in peals of laughter once again. Horace watched Enoch and Jacob with wide eyes and an even wider smile, the older boys making a scene as Enoch choked and Jacob slapped his back.

"StoOhAAp!" Hugh cried, holding his side's. "I'm going to have an accidentEntENT"

And everyones laughter increased.

.................

15 minutes later and the food was gone. Emma was eating the last slice of bacon, Horace was on his second cup of coffee and hugh was accident free.

Miss Peregrine cleared her throat. 

"Horace dear, I know you like to spend your loop day inside, in private, but there has seemed to be a change of plan this year. It seems that Enoch and Jacob want to see if there's anything worthwhile down at devils acre. I think it would do you some good to get out of the house and go with them, have some fun!" 

And Horace suddenly couldn't breath. 

She could hardly tack on a "only if you want to, of course." Before he asked "h-how long will it take?" 

Jacob took the liberty of answering. 

"Eh, I don't know. Maybe a couple of hours? 4 maximum anyway."

Horace nodded, numb. He didn't want to go out. He wanted to stay inside. In his room. Regretting and overthinking, like every other loop day. But he couldn't refuse, could he? Something was obviously going on, and he wouldn't want to ruin any "surprise" they worked hard on keeping from him.

"I- okay. I'll go." He said, before excusing himself, saying he had to go and find his wallet. And away he went. 

Miss peregrine excused herself a minute later, congratulating the boys on getting him to agree and forcing them to do the washing up.

The teens slowly worked themselves around the kitchen cleaning up and talking amongst themselves loudly as they washed up and put dishes away.

Millard goaded from somewhere by the sink,

"I'm not exactly confident he wants to go out today." 

Enoch hit him with a towel. 

...........

In another 10 minutes, all the dishes had been put away, and the table and units had been wiped down and scrubbed, making them shine and sparkle in appreciation. 

Enoch flicked Jacob on the back of the head before sweeping his arms grandly in the _after you sir_ gesture towards the stairs. Jacob rolled his eyes and they accended side by side, quietly engaging in conversation about their first plan of action? After all, where would Horace even be interested in goi-

The sound of gentle sobbing floated through their ears and caught their attention, freezing them in their tracks.

Hushing their conversation for now, and sending eachother a glance in confusion, they quietly and cautiously resumed. 

The sobbing kept stopping and starting quietly, and the two teens could hear the tell tale "shushings" of their headmistress. 

"I just, I miss him so much." Horace said, as they listened from behind the doorway, one on either side. They heard a sniffle.

"I know, love. I was there when he..." a wet sob followed that. 

"Sorry, love. I know it hurts. You just have to give yourself time." 

This time a shallow laugh followed. 

"Time!" Horace chuckled. "I've had 70 years worth of loop days to get over it. Maybe I never will." 

"Then that's not your fault. Would he think it's your fault?"

"No.."

"Then It's not. Look at that face, Horace. Does that look like the face of someone that would hold anything against you?"

A slightly louder, "No!"

"Then that's all there is to it. He's had his peace for 70 years, Horace. It's time to find yours." 

Unable to take the suspense any longer, Enoch rounded the door frame, dragging Jacob by the arm along with him, making him catch his feet on the door and trip, landing flat on his face on the floor.

Horace and Enoch burst out laughing before they even realised what they were doing. Horace sat on the edge of his bed, with miss P beside him. His eyes were once again red and puffy, and he had a yellowed black and white photograph in his hand.

"It's time to go" Jacob groaned from where His face was buried in the carpet. Horace once again laughed, before catching a look at his face in the mirror and gasping in horror.

"Oh jesus- hold on let me just clean up a little first-" and off he went, swinging around the door frame and launching himself up the hallway, towards the bathroom. Miss peregrine shook her head fondly.

"That boy..." she murmured, before giving the teens a mock salute and walking off, leaving the two teens in Horaces bedroom.

They both said it at the same time.

 _"what the fuck was that about??"_

Though neither of them had the answer. Suddenly, something caught Jacobs eye. It was the photograph, innocently placed on the edge of the bed, face down.

He stalked over cautiously, like it was a bomb, Enoch following him. He reached out to take it, when Enochs hand darted forward to snatch it first. 

"Really, Enoch?" He hissed, as the slightly taller boy held it up out of reach. Jacob knew better than to reach for it. 

Enoch smirked handsomely, before flipping the picture over.

They both stared in ill disguised shock.

In the picture was Horace, along with another boy, who seemed to be 16.

They were linking arms and hugging Eachother, hands seemingly intertwined. Horace had put his chin up on the older boys shoulder, and the other boy was kissing his hair. Both of them wore the biggest smiles that they had ever seen, and they were sitting on the hood of some sort of car, in front of traintracks. Horace was, surprisingly, wearing normal clothes for that time, shorts with suspenders and a short sleeve white top. He had thick **working** **boots** on, and also wore a necklace. The older boy looked exactly the same, but wore long trousers instead, seeing as he was obviously old enough. Horace had the biggest pair of eyes directed up at the older boy in adoration.

He looked like he was in love.

On the picture, in his neat scrawl, Horace had written two names.

Horace, and marius. 

_1923_

The "Horace" had a line through The middle of it, and _baby_ was written underneath, in unfamiliar handwriting. 

It was Jacob who spoke first.

"Is...is Horace...." 

"Am I what?" A young voice asked. 

Their heads snapped towards the door. Horace stood in the doorway, seemingly oblivious. 

Enoch had managed to put the photo behind his back when he first heard his voice, and now secretly let it go, letting it float onto the bed where it had been left.

"We were wondering if you were ready to go."

......................

Devils acre was bustling, for 10 in the morning at least. The three boys walked side by side, the coins in their pockets attracting the attention of many salespeople, and beggars. They tried to reach out and grab their arms, but the boys had rushed into a side street that had zero beggars whatsoever. They breathed a sigh of relief and nearly started laughing at it all.

"So," Horace said. "Where do you want to-" 

A man fell out of the door of a shop in front of him, seemingly to be violently pushed. Horace flinched back into Enoch, who pulled the much shorter child behind him unconsciously. 

"And STAY out." A female voice growled. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, and made their chest ache as vibrations rumbled through their body. A woman appeared in the door, looking for all intents and purposes, angry. She had long red hair that clashed with her grey skin, and dark, evil eyes. But then she was changing. Suddenly her hair was a limp brown, and her face aged. Everything about her was changing, and kept doing so continuously.

She spotted them and gasped, bringing a withered hand with young fingertips to her mouth, which was full of perfect teeth.

"My oh my, I'm so sorry dears. I meant to teach this man a lesson, I didn't realise others were so close!" 

"It's okay, miss. It was an accident. We'll be leaving now." Jacob reassured her.

The man wasn't moving.

The three tried to continue, but when they tried to pass, she reached out.

And grabbed Horaces arm.

He jumped, visibly frightened.

"Do not be afraid, child", the old woman cooed, even as her face became that of a young woman.

Her eyes filled with tears and pity.

"Oh my child. You are in pain."

Horace tried to remove his arm and Jacob stood behind him, protecting him from further harm, telling her to let him go.

"My child, your heart. It's so heavy. You are in pain. You are in so much pain you cannot breath. It haunts you." 

Once again, Horace violently tried to yank his arm out of the grip of the peculiar "witch".

"Let go!" 

"Do you want me to relieve some of the pain? I could share it out among others. It's what I'm known for around here. Let me ellivate your memories, dear. Let me help with the sadness."

"Oh FUCK THIS. Let him GO." Enoch growled loudly, charging forward to rip the witches arm off himself.

She whipped around towards him before he could act out his threat.

" _Sleep_ " she said.

And the world went black.


	2. Die with memories, not dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mizpah - the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.

It was strange, the way they woke up. 

It wasn't like waking up from a deep sleep, slowly opening their eyes and waiting to see what woke them. No. It happened rapidly, like an old tv, the static forming around them and transforming dark nothingness into scenery quickly. They were awake, but not awake. They could FEEL their bodies standing on something hard, but they couldn't actually see themselves or the surface. It was a void. Pitch black nothingness.

Then particles appeared out of nowhere, just a few floating around, before multiplying by millions and billions and forming together, coming together to make a scene. It took ten seconds, but it also managed to feel like an hour.

But form it did.

Jacob and Enoch blinked into existence, blinking rapidly and covering their eyes against the bright evening sun, bathing their new location in orange. They looked at eachother, completely panicked and baffled, wild with anxiousness. They stood directly in the middle of a large road, tall, colourful, pleasant looking narrow houses stood tall on each side of the street, with a couple of street vendors shouting and laughing, surrounded by small clusters of people as they sold the last of their bread goods.

Tall lampposts were being lit up and down the street by men with matches and small lanterns attached to their belts. It was very charming, although the buildings were slightly run down with age, possibly build in the 1930's or 1940s if there was an estimate, ivy crawling along some walls and through the cracks artistically. Woman in pretty skirts, head scarves and warm blouses walked up and down the street with friends, and men smoked with their drinking buddies in small groups as they laughed. 

The nearest paper stand read the date.

1947.

They turned to eachother, shocked, mouth opening and closing in what appeared to be an attempt of words, before Enoch looked sharply to the side. 

A big motor car was barreling up the street towards them rapidly, the people In the streets migrating to the safe pavement so they didn't get run over or hit.

"Look out!" He exclaimed, forcing jake to also register the approaching vehicle. His mouth opened in a silent scream, but it was too late, the car was too close. 

They froze, waiting for the pain and the crunch of the impact, throwing their arms up in front of them, even though it was useless-

The car drove right through them. Blue whisps of smoke rose up and expanded where the car glanced them, and reformed back into the areas of their bodies like nothing was ever wrong. The car drove away merrily up the street, honking it's defeaning horn at some women. Nobody even looked at them. 

Jacob collapsed in the road heavily, panting, and Enoch was slightly hyperventilating.

"How, where...what..what...how.." He kept repeating, over and over and over.

"Wait, where's Horace?" Jacob asked, and they were instantly back on their feet again. 

"Shit!" Enoch cursed, grabbing his hair and looking around frantically. There was no sign of the small prophetic boy, and they felt their hearts pick up the pace even faster.

"Shit where is he!? Oh god we've lost him! Where the hell are we? What if he's hurt? Is he still back in devils acre oh GOD-"

"He's fine." The deep, growling voice of a woman came from behind them, and they spun around in defence. 

It was the woman from devils acre. Her hair was now black and her eyes were slanted and bright. Her thick eyebrows shrunk, but they stayed fixed in place. She looked indifferent to it all.

Enoch stalked forward with his fists clenched, and she held up a young hand.

"Now child. That's the exact behaviour that landed you here in the first place. Do we really want to make this worse?" She asked, sounded old and young at the same time. A beautiful, and ugly paradox. 

"What do you mean? What is this?" Jacob fretted. "Why can't people see us? It says 1947 on that paper stand, so who's loop is this?" 

"Because child. You're not in a loop. You are not in a time pocket. You are in a memory. Your friend's memory to be precise. Oh look, you said you wanted to see him. There he is." She pointed up the street, towards the main roads.

They turned in tandem, and gasped. Horace was walking with an older girl who had her arms looped through a basket, her long blue dress swishing around her calves. She looked like an older version of him, maybe fourteen or fifteen. She had long blonde hair rolled into a couple of tight curls that fell upon her shoulder, pinned in place with pins, and had rouged red lips and large lashes. 

Horace was younger, that much they could see. He was 10 years old, and still had the same large blue eyes, big lashes (that girls were envious of) and blonde hair. He was clothed in brown shorts with suspenders, brown shoes, long socks that came up to his knees and a button up sleeve shirt that was untucked. He looked like a doll.

He also had a basket held with both hands and was swinging it back and forth gently. He and his sister (?) Were talking about something in rapid French as they walked down the street, something they couldn't make sense of, although they could tell it was a happy conversation by the side smiles on both of their faces. 

The witch rolled her eyes, and waved her hand fluidly. 

Little by little, the French faded to English, and they could finally hear the conversations and shouts of everyone on the street and UNDERSTAND them.

"It wasn't THAT bad!" The girl was laughing. Horace made a disgusted noise which made her giggle harder.

"It was! You and Dèvon were being all gross and flirty with eachother Mari!" 

"Well that's what happens when you find someone you like, Horace! It's only natural. Now, because you can't mind your own beeswax you can go over to Mr pontmercy and see if he has any honey left, we need some more, mamon said this morning." And Horace pouted. 

"Okaaaay. Can you take the basket then? Seeing as you're already going inside please?" And Mari nodded fondly, taking his basket and walking off to one of the houses on the side, opposite to her brother, dodging a pretty flower bush that surrounded the iron stairs. 

"You have money, yes?" She called, and smiled when he nodded. Then she unlatched the wooden door and went inside, leaving it open. 

Horace walked right past Enoch and Jake without even looking at them, making their hearts hurt. They followed him eagerly, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would notice them.

He crossed the street and headed towards a cute wooden stall on wheels, where a nice older man was handing over a jar of delicious looking, homemade honey to a thin old woman with a delicate headscarf. He patiently waited behind her for the last of their smiles to be exchanged before bouncing up to the counter top and standing on his tiptoes. The man laughed, loud and boisterous.

"Little somnusson, it's been too long! I think you have grown, yes? Or... perhaps not."

"I saw you yesterday Mr pontmercy! And you know full well I haven't grown sir, because I still can't see you properly!" He rocked back and forth on his feet dramatically, straining to see over the counter top.

"Well, I suppose you have much time to grow yet! You're still only young, and my honey is the best! It will help you grow strong and healthy!"

"Does that mean you have any left? It is the end of the day I suppose, so if not I'll get up extra extra early to come and see you!"

The man gestured sadly to the plain countertop, in a big, solem swing of his arms.

"Alas Horace, I just gave the last of my countertop honey to old Mrs Francine."

Horace gave a dejected sigh, pouting with a prominent lip. Suddenly, the man grinned slyly. He reached behind the stall and received two jars.

"So it's lucky I saved some behind it, just for you!" And he pressed the two massive jars into the child's small hands. Horace beamed, fumbling with the money.

"Thank you Monsieur! You really had me there!" He laughed, before clucking in frustration and setting the jars on the ground to hand him the money properly.

"Non, thank YOU, your family is practically what keeps this stall going with how much honey you buy every week! Now, it's getting very late, I suppose you better get inside before the REAL drunks come out!"

He pocketed the money in his white working apron, donned his hat, and took the handles of his stall, rolling it down the cobbled street with a haughty wave at the ten year old. Horace waved back merrily, picking up the jars and running back across the street, shouting goodnight at random people who said it back. He skipped up the stairs, unlatched the door and disappeared into his house. The door clicked heavily closed behind him, and he was out of sight. Jacob and Enoch stared at the door for a minute, the bustling sounds of a Paris night beginning sounding muffled and alien to their inexperienced ears. Enoch spun around angrily with his fists clenched and face screwed up.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? This is an invasion of privacy you bloody witch!" The smug smile vanished from the teenage face, mounted upon centuries old shoulders. A firey storm gathered in her once dead eyes.

"IGNORANT" She seethed, her voice rumbling, making their ribs expand, vibrate and ache randomly. They doubled over in pain as their teeth shook in their mouths and their spine curved in agony.

"I WOULD HAVE LET YOU RIDE THESE MEMORIES CALMLY UNTIL IT WAS TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE. I WOULD HAVE CHOSEN GOOD MEMORIES FOR YOU TO VISIT, LEFT OUT THE WORST ONES. BUT YOUR IGNORANCE HAS COST YOU, CHILD. I NO LONGER CHOOSE THE MEMORIES. THEY WILL CALL THEMSELVES FORTH WHEN THEY SEE FIT. I WOULD HAVE REMOVED YOU BEFORE LONG, BUT NOW YOU WILL STAY UNTIL THE VERY END." she screeched wildly, her hair growing grey to white rapidly and expanding to drop down to her ankles. Her face withered until she was an old Asian woman with wide, babyish eyes. Her voice doubled and tripped until it was a shrill rumble, and then suddenly, it stopped. The two teens picked themselves up shakily, and looked at the witch. "I made the boy pay. It's only fair you get your moneys worth." She grinned with shark teeth, and snapped her fingers. She was gone, and so was the street.

* * *

Enoch and Jacob had a much less pleasant experience travel wise this time. If Jacob could describe it, it would be like when Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort met in the final battle, and travelled together in that plume of black smoke, unable to see anything around them except their own faces moulding and disfiguring grotesquely.

And then they stopped. They breathed heavily as they landed on a kitchen floor of small red tiles, next to a big wooden table. The kitchen was longer than it was wide, and very homely. There was a large kitchen window with lace curtains on a pale pink wall (which matched the house), and early morning sunlight came streaming through, highlighting the assortments of food items strewn across the table. A woman stood, kneading dough with experienced hands, her soft golden hair fanned around her shoulders, down to just above her elbows, a blue bandana holding most of it out of her face. She had a thin body, clad in a blue morning dress and apron, patches of flour in the shape of fingerprints showed that she regularly wiped her hands on it. Sunlight glittered across her youthful face, highlighting her bright blue eyes and natural rosy cheeks. In short, she was absolutely radiant. She started humming along to a quiet orange radio in the back that was whispering some heartfelt French song, her angelic voice soothing the boys frantic heartbeats, as she took the dough and put it in the fridge. She washed her hands in a compact, deep sink and collected a large sharp knife from one of the white wooden counters, returning to the table and grabbing a handful of plump fresh strawberries. Jacob and Enoch watched her, feeling calmer by the second, before a young voice broke the illusion.

"Mamon?" Horace asked sleepily from the door frame, looking at his mother with drooping eyes.

The woman looked up, slightly startled, before setting the knife down and going over to her son, crouching down and grabbing his hands.

"Horace baby, what are you doing up so early? It is only five am." He didn't answer, looking at the ground, ashamed. 

She looked at him with kind, bright blue eyes, identical to her son's baby blues.

"Oh sweetie, was it the nightmares again?" She asked. Horace faltered, before whispering.

"You have to sleep for nightmares to come get you." And his mother closed her eyes.

"Another sleepless night? We really must get to the bottom of this, huh?" She smiled comfortingly, before standing up, dusting her dress off.

"Now, would you like to go back to bed, or help me with breakfast? Your father and sister will be up in an hour and a half, and I need to let the bread rise for one hour until I can bake it. I got up a little later than usual, so the break might have to wait for a little while." 

"Papa won't like that. He likes fresh bread in the morning. But I'll help you mamon." 

His mother froze for a second, before relaxing and calmly stroking her son's hair. 

"Your father doesn't like anything much sweetie. We just have to do our best." 

"Yes mamon! What can I do to help? Have you started the crepes yet?" Horace asked, peering at the ingredients and food on the table. His mother chuckled fondly, handing him a strawberry.

"No love, we have to start on the batter in an hour, lest the the air gets to it and it becomes ruined. You could start whipping creme though, mix a little honey if you want. With those skinny arms, it'll be a task that will distract you until it's time to make the crepes!" 

"Mamon!" Was whinned.

Jacob and Enoch smiled warmly at the mother and son enjoying life together, studying their surroundings and trying to figure out what the hell was going to happen. Would they stay here for hours? Years? How long was a "memory" exactly. 

"I don't like the sound of his dad if I'm being honest. I'm guessing...fat, bald, grumpy, doesn't appreciate what he's got." Enoch said, glowering.

"How much you wanna bet?" 

"...."

"...."

"Are we betting on our brothers memories?" 

"Perhaps"

But neither of them could continue, because with a lurch that send their stomachs turning, they were launched a couple of hours later, where the mother was gone from the kitchen, the sun was now bright and warming up the homely room, and Horace was dressed, sitting at the table munching a strawberry. They seemed to be a personal favourite. 

His older sister walked in, dressed in a pink skirt, cream blouse and brown buckled shoes, looking at him in thought.

"Morning angel. Did you not sleep well again?" She asked, kissing his forehead in greeting.

"Good morning. No, but it's okay. I'll sleep tonight." He said, smiling at her serenely. She took a seat opposite him, leaving the heads of the table for their parents. 

"Did you help make this?" 

"I did. I couldn't sleep last night at all, and I heard mamon preparing breakfast before she got ready for work and I thought I'd help her." 

"Well, it looks delicious Horace."

"Mamons food usually is!" 

Then, their mother walked in, tying the last knot at the back of her blue dress, which the boys could easily identify as a nurses uniform by the red cross embroidered in the middle. 

"Thank you for the compliment angel. Good morning Mari, we made your favourite, crepes with creme, honey and blueberries!" She kissed both of their heads, before giving them a searching look.

"Now, I'm going to see if your papa is awake and ready for breakfast. You know what to do, be calm, don't anger him, and don't get in the way. He was out very late last night I'm guessing, and he will probably have a bit of the hangover again, which will make him more irritated. I shall give him some medicine now when I see him." And with a gentle smile, she walked out.

"Ah well, there goes our precious moment of peace." Sighed Mari, crossing her arms childishly.

"Papa came home at 4:46 this morning. I looked at the clock."

"Oh great, barely 2 hours sleep. Today is not going to go great little brother." 

"I know Mari."

Suddenly, enoch and Jacobs attention was drawn to the door frame, instead this time there was no adorable child standing in the way. A giant of a man stood in the entrance of the kitchen with a mighty glower on his unshaven face. He was a dark brunette, and had an air of menace and evil surrounding him like a dark cloud. Somehow, they knew this man was dangerous. His eyes were hazy and unfocused with a prominent hangover, buried deep under black eyebags. He yawned grossly, unbrushed teeth on display, the disgusting smell of last night's booze polluting the once sweet air. Prior to Enochs previous thoughts, he was a well built man, with plenty of muscle.

He threw himself into his chair, not bothering to say good morning, instead grabbing a handful of berries and shoving them into his mouth in one huge attempt, cleaning out half the bowl. Many missed, and cascaded onto the floor where they would no doubt be squished later. Horace and Mari stared at the table in silence, quietly eating their breakfast. But his glistening eyes zeroed in on his children anyway.

"Wassa matter with you both?" He slurred, leaning back and munching two crepes at a time. 

"Why you being so fucking quiet eh?" 

The two children flinched minutely, but didn't answer. He didn't like that one bit.

His arm shot out and grabbed Horaces shoulder, shaking it violently. The two boys had to remind themselves that they couldn't interfere, that it was just a memory. 

"You're being too damn quiet. I haven't done anything yet. Don't make me. Ask me how I am, yeah?" He said, a mixture of breathlessness and demanding. 

Mari looked on with frightened eyes, much like a scared rabbit.

"H-how is your morning papa?" Horace asked, looking up into his face and meeting his eyes. He immediately darted them away and turned white.

His papa moved his hand very slowly and deliberately down from his shoulder to his elbow, where he gripped it so hard it made his child whimper.

"Who" he growled, yanking the poor child closer. "Said you could make eye contact?" 

Horace was about to answer when his mother walked into the kitchen, where she took in the sight of her son being threatened rapidly and frantically.

"C-Charles!" She exlaimed in false happiness. I have your medicine in the bedroom, and I'm just about to take the loaf out of the oven! I'm sure those would cheer you up!" 

The distraction worked. Charles released his hold and stood up from the table, stumbling his way to the door, shooting a venomous look towards his wife.

"Stupid woman. Can't even make fucking bread on time." And he was gone.

Mari immediately stood up from the table, walked around it briskly and hugged her little brother. 

"Mamon!" She hissed protectively. "Why does he only pick on Horace? Why must he ignore me, the first born, and go for the youngest?" 

Louisa- their mother- joined them in the hug, examining Horaces arm as she did so.

"Its because he's a boy angel. Your father is very old fashioned, he believes this will toughen him up, make him a stronger man once he's older. It's just the way things are." She comforted sadly. There is no easy way to tell your children that their father was abusive. 

"Well I hate it!" Fumed Mari, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes. 

"Its okay Mari, I'm used to it."

"That doesn't mean it's right!" 

"Perhaps not, children. But there's nothing we can do for now. Now then, it's time I go to work. I will see you two at 5 o clock tonight. Mari, be a dear and preheat the oven at 4 o clock, and get the chicken out ready for me to cook? He's already mad about the bread, so I should make dinner as efficiently and quickly as possible." 

"Yes mamon."

"Love you mamon." 

"I love you two, my little ones. I shall see you later, try and keep out of the house until later, okay? And Mari, that doesn't mean you can go kiss dèvon behind the church again."

"Mamon!"

"Behind a church? _Really?"_

With Some Laughter and hugs goodbye, their mother departed. Mari grabbed a small purse from the counter and halted by the open front door.

"Horace, do you need to stay with me for a while?"

"No, it's okay Mari, I'll go find pepinot and Sara'h."

"Okay be safe!" 

"Love you, stay safe also!" 

And the scene faded away, well, the sharp, details anyway. the scene just seemed to be made up of blobs of colour instead of objects.

"What the hell is this? Is it over?" Enoch demanded into thin air, raising his voice, but Jacob waved a hand and shushed him.

"No, somethings telling me this is like...some sort of pit stop in between memories. A small break where we can digest what we saw. If that makes sense."

Enoch karate chopped a blob of yellow, and watched it spiral away into nothing.

"Make sense-" he choked. He regained control of himself however, and felt rage slowly creep up his spine.

"I do not like his fucking father." 

"Neither do I, he looked terrified!"

"How DARE he lay a HAND on him."

"Its obviously been going on for years, perhaps since birth, from the way the family was acting. Why would the mother marry that thing? That disgrace?" 

Enoch groaned loudly and rubbed his hands over his face.

"Jacob you grew up in the 21st century, where abuse is illegal. Especially child abuse. But back when we were all born it was extremely common. It was also common for women to be set up with males by their families, and also they wanted to marry for not only love, but for a luxurious lifestyle. Or maybe he was kind before marriage, and simply became a monster after she gave birth. Meanwhile men viewed women as objects more often than naught. I'm just lucky my parents married for love. But either way, nobody is going to bat am eye." 

Jacob was quiet. 

"Something tells me this isn't the worst thing we'll see by far."

They felt the foreign sensation of being pulled from one memory to the next. 

"Well something tells ME, you're probably right." 

And they blinked out like a light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ew I'm sorry for this


	3. Don't be suspicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new boy brightens his world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM ALIVE .  
> I left you guys for like.... 6 months I am so sorry-  
> Time flies when shit happens ig. But I will never, EVER abandon this story!! I'm sorry this was short, I'm getting back into the swing of things!

Enoch bit out a rough curse as he and Jacob were flung to the floor suddenly and violently, disorientated and squinting in the bright lamps of the velvet night. Once again they were panting in the middle of a picturesque, charming cobbled stone street. Lanterns were lit on top of intricate black poles, their flames cast dancing shadows on the ivy that crawled its way up rowdy pubs and on the people who walked up and down the street, some swaying drunkenly while singing, some people walked alone, some in groups with the occasional child weaving in and out of peoples legs. Hearty piano music floated up from inside one of the bars, and what little stalls were still out that late where packing up for the night. A large body of inky black water was located on the right of the street, separated by a think black railing and chains. A boat with tables and chairs and people singing slowly passed by, the steam from the top slowly spiralling up in dark puffs to join the sky. 

Jacob groaned as he rubbed his head, looking around. 

"Well.." he began, tiredly. "Where do you think we are?"

"i would say probably a high street, but there's not enough shops here.. so most likely a drinking street. It's a street dedicated to vendors and alcohol based establishments. There's also the occasional poker building, or at least, there was in London." Jacob nodded, absorbing the information. 

"Okay.." he slowly said, dipping his head and narrowing his eyes. "What are we doing here?" Enoch looked at his friend like he'd grown a second head.

"How the bloody hell should I know? Lat time I checked it was 7 in the morning and I was in some birds kitchen!"

"Horace's mother, not bird." The other corrected, feelings as though the woman deserved some respect. Hell she probably DID deserve it, being trapped in her home with that beast of a man breathing down her neck and terrorising her family. Enoch nodded his head in acceptance, correcting himself. The shared silence between them lasted not but five seconds.

"God it's so weird that we're here." Enoch breathed, showing his hands in his pockets and letting out a huge breath. Jacob huffed a laugh, nodding his head rapidly. 

"God yeah. I thought I'd seen it all. Apparently not. What do you suppose Horace is doing right now?" Enoch raised an eyebrow, and walked backwards until his back touched one of the black railings that separated the street from the drop into the water.

"In the present? Probably worrying his arse off, being all frantic and the bird has to calm him down." He chuckled, before sobering up.

"Jacob...if Horace doesn't know about this... then we can't tell him."

"What!?"

"Jacob if he knows that we've been to his house, seen his father, and God knows what else... he'll shut himself out. He'll be too scared to talk to us. You should have seen him when he first entered the loop. He was pale, his eyes were empty, and he refused to be touched. We can't see him like that again. It took him years to open up."

Jacob thought hard, head tipped in concentration. 

"Wouldn't it be better to tell the truth? I mean.. that weird witch lady said he'd already paid her in money.. Who's to say she hasn't already told him what's going on?" Enoch tipped his head back and groaned. "Okay, we'll see. Depending on how bad these memories are. We'll see." 

He suddenly shot up like a bullet, startling Jacob in the process. 

"Shit, there!" he exclaimed, pointing across the street. Indeed, it was Horace. The two boys ran across the street to be closer to the action, cutting through people and objects like ghosts.

Horace seemed to be a year older, around eleven, and had grown about two inches. He was dressed closer to what Jacob had first met him in, grey shorts, black knee high socks, a white long sleeve shirt and grey waistcoat. He was shivering slightly in the cool night air, hair tousled and cheeks a rosy red. A small bruise sat near the corner of his lips.

His father stood next to him, back ram-rod straight, a gentlemanly smile on his face that overshadowed his beady eyes. He was the epitome of elegance, his shirt was ironed, his trousers wrinkle free, hands donned in white gloves. There was nothing about this man that resembled the beast they saw in the kitchen that morning. 

He was talking to another gentleman, in front of one of the brightly lit pubs, laughing and shaking hands.

"Oh John, you do tickle me!" he laughed, loud and booming, and Horace said nothing, staring at the ground. The other man- John- noticed.

"Your boy not a talker, eh? Haven't heard him utter a peep all night!" Charles side eyed Horace hard, but the other man seemed oblivious. 

"Normally he can't keep his mouth shut! Always talking back and whatnot. Couldn't ensure a business deal to save his life! Not like you and I just did, eh?" He winked, and John clapped him on the arm. 

"No harm no foul, Charles. My boy is the same, a little bugger he is. He is angry because we have just moved over from Calais. There is much more business opportunities in Paris than there was in Calais! Yes, it was easier to get shipments in, but there were only a couple of trades down that way. I was respected, and with you by my side, you too shall be respected. In fact, what do you say your boy take mine for a tour of the place? Help him make some friends? Hell, perhaps one day they could become business partners!"

Charles was floating at the notion that he could be a well known and respected man, and agreed without a second thought. 

"Of course! That sound's like a grand idea! When can they meet?" 

John held up an arm politely, and turned around to yell into the din of the pub. 

"MARIUS! My apologies, he's near the back with my wife. I normally don't bring them along to my deals, but I thought they could use the excitement." 

Through the crowds of people came a boy, and Jacob and Enoch could see the exact moment Horace fell for him. His cheeks flushed even more and his blue eyes widened, before hunching his shoulders, intertwining his hands and looking at the ground again. They both gasped, because they recognised him.

"It's the boy from the picture!"

Marius stood before them all, facial expression neutral, if a little nervous. He seemed to be around 14, Enoch would guess, as he wore trousers, but he seemed awkward in them, not yet used to the rough fabric encasing his legs. He himself had started wearing trousers at nine, but being the son of an undertaker, was understandable. He shook hands with Charles as his father introduced him, and his eyes locked with Horace's for the first time. 

Both boys stared at each others faces with small smiles playing shyly at their lips, Marius's larger hand encasing Horace's smaller one for the first time, and Horace wondered if he too felt the electricity dance through his fingertips. 

"Salut, I am Marius." 

"And I am Horace." 

Without warning, the scene faded. Enoch and Jacob blinked in muddled confusement. 

"That was quick." Jacob remarked. "And Kinda sweet." 

Enoch kicked a black blob, inwardly wishing it wasn't a cat or some sort. 

"Yeah, it was, I guess. Charles is still a creep, though. But did you see the way Horace's eyes lit up when he saw that boy? Complete infatuation!" he chuckled, before sobering slowly, chuckles dying down to a sigh, and Jacob fell silent too.

"So … this means that... Horace IS actually..." 

"He likes boys? I would guess so. God.." Enoch huffed, rubbing his face. " I had no idea." 

Jacob shook his head. " Me neither, don't worry. _Shit_ his life has got to be hard."

"Of course it will be, Jacob. He likes men! Back then you could be KILLED for that, and nobody would bat an eye. Any suspicious business and a respectful family could lose all credibility immediately, shunned from the community. It was awful for.. gay people. How is it in the present? Is it better for him?"

"It's not that bad now... better than it's ever been. Most of the public is actually accepting or at least tolerating. Yeah, okay, you have the odd homophobic assholes who literally smell like beer and baby wipes and curly fries and the people of different religions who can't accept homosexuality... but it's good, Enoch. It is." 

Enoch nodded. "When we get back.. show him." 

"I will." 

The unexpected pull and lurch of their transportation gripped them without warning and flung them into a new day. They flinched in the soft orange glow of a breezy French evening, their quickly adapting eyes scrutinizing their surroundings. 

They were behind some sort of building, but with the cross on top they could easily identify it as a church. The church stood solitary against (as far as they could see) a large green landscape, fresh grass tinted shades of gold stretched out as far as the eye could see, before sprouting upwards far away as woodland and trees came into play. Train tracks lay on the ground a distance away, winding through the trees and past the church like a snake, disappearing as the ground gave out, making way for a steel and wooden bridge. It was a scene straight out of a story. Horace and Marius sat on top of some wooden crates, sitting so close that their sides were nearly touching. The sun painted everything in shades of gold, their eyes set ablaze by something other than the suns furious glow, their bodies bathed in soft light other than the suns golden rays, the last gentle wind blew leaves across the unfinished ground and tumbled out of sight but the boys took no notice, just sat there in comfortable silence and entertaining their own thoughts. 

"This place is perfect for solitude," Horace whispered, and the other boy sighed happily. 

"On the outskirts, nobody can bother us. Nobody can tell us what to do. I bet, if we shouted right now, nobody would come running." 

"Or how about we don't. I spent long enough trying to get away from my fathers grip for years, let me enjoy this moment of peace!" Horace laughed, nudging the older boys shoulder with his own, and Marius laughed, nudging him back playfully, staring out across the greenery. 

"I wish the world was different." He said, tone wistful. Horace looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"How so?" He asked, hands in his lap picked at his own nails against his will. 

"For people like us." 

"Us?"

"Horace." Marius tilted his head, and looked down into the younger boys face. "We both know.. we're not exactly considered normal. And I know you're different too. You're just like me." 

Horace gaped up at him with wide eyes, before looking away with shame, fidgeting like hell. "How did you...Marius...I..I didn't ask to be born this way."

"I know."

"So why would we be judged for it?"

"Because people are scared of us."

"Why?"

"Because we don't follow a system. We're anomalies. A woman or man marries someone of the opposite gender for money and wealth, we don't have that choice. Some people marry to reproduce, we don't have that choice. We don't have a say in anything."

"That's not fair."

"It never is, Horace."

"When... did you know you liked.. boys?" 

silence, only the gentle scraping of the leaves against the ground could be heard. The suns light illuminated Marius's gorgeous brown eyes, introduced a spark of mischief that made him look younger.

"When I saw you." 

Jacob and Enoch suddenly felt like they were intruding a very private moment. They were. 

"..You are such a sap, Marius!" Horace exclaimed, cheeks blazing as Marius grinned cheekily.

"Oh yeah? Then how come you like me?" 

Horace stilled, sucking in a breath. 

"I... I don't-"

"Hey, come on. It's okay." Horace teared up, laughing, possibly relieved or scared or a mixture of both, either awaiting rejection or something more. Perhaps Marius screaming "Surprise" and half the town came running out from behind the church where they had been listening, ready to shun him. 

"You're kind to me. You understand. You have the nicest, most genuine smile I have ever seen. I now know, because we're the same, that I can rely on you. We've spent so much time together these past months. You spend time with me, even though I'm years younger, and protect me from the older boys. Just you in general, t-to be honest."'

"Awww, now who's the sap? I'm only a couple of years older. You're 11, and I just turned 14, that's around three years. If it makes you feel better, my Father was 24 when my mother was born. And how did you never realise I was different? I started dropping hints from our first meeting. The flowers I 'found', the touching of our arms, the spending every second with you, verbal hints? Anything?" he teased, scooting closer to Horace with every hint. 

Horace responded positively, resting heavily against the others side. " I just didn't want to hope, I guess. It's dangerous to be who we are, you know this. I couldn't afford to get it wrong."

Marius then, slowly, lifted an arm to wrap around Horace's shoulders, and when Horace didn't refuse, tucked him in closer against his side. Horace took in a shaky breath, blonde hair slightly swaying from the breeze.

"Are we doing this?"

"It'll be dangerous. You and I both know the costs."

"I don't care. I'm willing if you are."

"...Isn't it weird to think that when you're 13 I'll be 16?" 

"...Are you trying to put me off?" Horace teased back, burrowing deeper. 

"I would never dream of it." 

They basked in each others silence for a short while more.

"So .." Horace started.

"So .." Marius mimicked, looking down at him, where Horace looked up to lock gazes.

"Boyfriends?"

Marius took his time in collecting the younger boys hand, before bringing it to his lips to press a simple kiss to it.

"Boyfriends." 

Jacob and Enoch were whisked away to the twinkling sound of their laughter and the soft glow of the evening light. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this came to me in a dream ig. Although i toned it down a lot... it originally had a Bonnie and Clyde feel to it lmfao. I don't think this has been done yet, but if it has i apologise!


End file.
